The frost on the floor shimmered briefly, responding to the shift in her emotional register, and for a single moment the geometric patterns along the stone softened into something almost organic. Almost alive.
"The Invader blocked every such proposal," she said, and the laughter faded into something quieter. Something that remembered.
Bruce's attention sharpened.
"It rejected trade agreements," she continued, voice measured now, clinical, as if she were performing an autopsy on her own captivity. "Dismissed technological expansion initiatives. Framed them as threats to sovereignty and cultural purity. Used nationalism as a shield against progress."
Her jaw tightened almost imperceptibly.
"Every ambassador who proposed communication networks was turned away with reassurances about 'Eiskar's proud tradition of self-reliance.' Every merchant guild that offered mana-grid integration was told the kingdom 'preferred its independence to foreign dependency.'"
